


clarity

by owlinaminor



Series: thorbruce week 2k18 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), ThorBruce Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15582381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: By Thor's count, Bruce has not eaten or gone outside his lab in nineteen hours.





	clarity

**Author's Note:**

> for thorbruce week day four: touch. this one is a day late, but i'll catch up.
> 
> this fic is set in the same post-iw time period and mentions the same research as [reptile house](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281619).

 

At first, Thor thinks the lab is empty.

The lights are dimmed, not quite all the way down but hovering close to it, an artificial recreation of the moment between dusk and twilight.  The space is quiet – no centrifuge whirring or computer tabulating or – well, whatever else it is that Bruce’s equipment does, Thor still doesn’t know many of the technical terms.  He walks past diagrams and prototypes, cabinets full of electrical equipment, half-built weapons.  Despite the many projects Thor knows are currently ongoing in this lab, he doesn’t see any clutter.  All of the metal rolling chairs are pushed in beneath the smooth black lab tables, which themselves are wiped down, clear of debris.

The only part of the lab not entirely spotless is the chalkboard, running all the way along the back of the room.  It’s not actually one chalkboard but a connected system of twenty chalkboards, each of which can be rolled in and out in order to give a writer more space.  Stark protested when Bruce asked for the thing to be installed, years ago – made some noise about how everything can be done with holotech now and Bruce is a modern scientist not a hundred-year-old college professor.  But Bruce likes writing things out the old-fashioned way, and so here the chalkboard is: at the back of the lab, covered in equations and diagrams and calculations in every color of the rainbow.

It is by the board that Thor finally finds him: perched on top of a table pushed up close to the far end, hands on his hips, staring at his scribbles as though expecting them to come alive and start attacking.

“Hey,” Thor says.

Bruce startles – nearly topples off the table.  Thor puts a hand out to steady him, then keeps it there, rested lightly on Bruce’s upper arm.

“What’re you doing here?” Bruce asks.

His shirt is untucked, buttons undone, one sleeve rolled up further than the other.  The light is dim in the lab, but Thor can see dark circles under his eyes.

Thor turns, bends his knees, and jumps up onto the table beside Bruce.  Facing the equations.

“I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I came to check on you.”

Bruce starts to say he doesn’t need to be checked on, but Thor cuts him off.  “I brought pizza.  It’s on a table outside.”

“Thor, this is…”  Bruce pushes his glasses up to his head, rubs his eyes.  “Thanks for remembering not to bring the food into the lab this time.  But you really didn’t need to do this.  I’m fine.”

Thor moves closer, reaches an arm out and around Bruce’s waist.

“By my count, you haven’t eaten or gone outside in nineteen hours.”

“But I can go longer,” Bruce protests.  “And I did all the time in grad school.”

Thor raises an eyebrow at him.  He tries to muster the same spiteful _I could turn you into a bug and crush you with a flick of my finger_ that this expression would evoke if Loki wore it.  He doesn’t think he’s succeeding.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” he says.

“But I have to.”  Bruce pushes himself closer to the board, out of Thor’s arm.  He’s shaking, ever so slightly – as though he drank two full pots of coffee.  (Which, now that Thor thinks about it, is actually pretty plausible.)

Bruce reaches out and trace a line of chalk marking the outer border of a table full of variables.  Space, time, energy – Thor doesn’t recognize the others.

“I need to find the way to isolate the trace of the space stone,” he says.  “Tony’s gone, Dr. Cho is gone, Shuri’s busy leading a country.  It’s all up to me.  And I’m close, Thor – I’m so close, I just need another few hours, and then I’ll get it.”

There’s an instability in his voice that Thor recognizes – low, dark, syllables running together.  He sounds like a man with nothing left to lose.  He sounds like Thor – after Thanos, before Bruce told him _hey, you have me._

“I just need to account for the delta particles,” Bruce is muttering.  He’s picked up a piece of chalk – or maybe he was already holding it – and starts scribbling over his numbers, each letter shakier than the next.

Thor lets this go on for a moment.  Two moments.  A count of ten.  And then he moves – jumps down off the table, steps in between Bruce’s legs, takes one of Bruce’s arms in each of his hands.  The piece of chalk clatters to the floor and snaps in half.

Bruce blinks at Thor.  “You’re in the way.”

“Bruce.”  Thor steps closer, leans down.  The dark circles under his eyes are huge – like old bruises, refusing to heal.

“The world won’t end if you eat, sleep for a few hours, and finish this in the morning.”

“You don’t know that.”  Bruce squirms, trying to reach around Thor to the chalkboard.  But Thor stops him – grabs both of his wrists in one hand, brings the other hand to Bruce’s face.  He cradles Bruce’s cheek, his chin, rubs his thumb along the stubble there.  Moves up to stroke the side of his face, the circle beneath his right eye.  Bruce’s glasses seem ready to slip off his nose – they’re thin, rectangular frames, new after the battle of Wakanda but so dusty, they wouldn’t be out of place at an archaeological dig.

Bruce’s breathing has gone shallow, his legs relaxed around Thor’s waist.  Thor lets go of his wrists and reaches both hands up.

Slowly, so slowly, like moving through melted sunlight – he slides off Bruce’s glasses.

There is a sink built into the end of the table, a box of kimwipes sitting nearby.  Thor grabs one wipe and opens the faucet for a moment to dampen it, then runs it over the glass.  When he was a boy, his father had him and Loki polish all the weapons in the vault, so that they would be close to them, feel their power.  His motion now is similar – smooth, even circles, polishing until the lenses are clear of dust – but this feels different.  This is the power not of a weapon, but of a tool to see.

Bruce watches Thor, as he works.  His dark eyes trace every movement of Thor’s fingers.  Not calculating, as he had been when he watched the chalkboard, but focusing.  Focusing.  Like sunlight directed through a magnifying glass, capable of burning any leaf that a child might put in its path.

Thor lets out a shaky breath.  He returns the glasses to Bruce’s face and keeps his hand there, thumbs resting at the side of Bruce’s eyes.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Bruce says.

Thor closes the distance – leans up slightly, that’s new – and presses their lips together.  Bruce tastes of old coffee and something metallic, but his mouth is warm and inviting, his legs steady as they tighten around Thor’s waist, his hands soft where they reach up to grab Thor’s shoulders.

“Take a break,” Thor says when they break for air, running his hands up and down Bruce’s arms.  “Eat something.  Rest.  I can personally guarantee that the world will not end in the meantime.”

“Actually.”  Bruce peers around him at the board.  “With this new clarity provided by these clean glasses, I can see that… that…”

Thor looks at him.

“I was hoping, if I made it sound like I had an epiphany, one would come,” Bruce admits.

Thor laughs, presses a kiss to Bruce’s cheek.  “But you _will_ take a break?”

“Well…”  Bruce cocks his head, pretends to consider the question for one last moment – then lifts one leg up and over Thor and swings both off the table.

“You did mention pizza, right?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> the glasses moment is inspired by griffin and rachel mcelroy talking about rachel cleaning griffin's glasses in last week's episode of [wonderful](http://www.maximumfun.org/wonderful/wonderful-ep-45-frasiest) (around 47 minutes in).
> 
> i've got my fic for day five already drafted, so expect that in a couple of hours!


End file.
